


Jimmy Barnes

by i_honestly_dek



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Avenger in training, Avengers Tower, Brother-Sister Relationships, F/M, Fluff, Not a Love Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 17:17:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5833942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_honestly_dek/pseuds/i_honestly_dek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're an Avenger-in-Training. Bucky's your trainer/mentor. You two are on a mission together. </p><p>Just read chapter 1. It's all the background info you need.</p><p>I still can't summary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction/ Background info

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote and edited this in around 4 hours. I'm going to read this another day and realise how uneventful it was, but I felt like writing. So, yeah.
> 
> Comment what you liked, disliked, what you wanna see more of, and any requests you have.
> 
> insta: @tiltheend.oftheline

Hey! You’re an Avenger! Well, an Avenger-in-training. Bucky’s the one who brought you in and trained you. It was all free-will, by the way. You don’t have any superpowers, per se, though you’re pretty good at parkour.  

 

Bucky’s older than you - by how much, it doesn’t matter. You can make it to fit your situation xD  

 

You two aren’t romantically involved in any way. More like an older brother/ younger sister type of relationship than anything else.  

 

This fic starts in the middle of your third ever Avengers mission. Make up the backstory in your head, but the main goal was to locate and obtain an important USB key (stolen by some other bad/evil group. Not HYDRA. Let’s call them the Crown Crew lol) and bring it back to the Avengers tower for safekeeping.  

 

*your thoughts*


	2. Storytime!

STORYTIME

 

*Damn, it’s hot outside* You think to yourself while walking down the busy sidewalk. Bucky’s a block behind you, trying to keep it low-key and not raise any flags. *How is he surviving in a sweater in this heat? Geez.* The metal arm isn’t easy to hide.

 

You bring your phone to your ear, pretending to take a call when you really have an earpiece in. “Hey Jimmy, doin’ okay there? In a sweater and all…”

 

“Y’know, I’ve lived in two different centuries and you’re the only person in either one of them to ever call me Jimmy.” You can’t help the small laugh that escapes you. “But yeah, I’m fine. See any others?”

 

Looking around while still trying to look casual, you scan the crowd for any obvious Crown Crew members.

 

The Crown Crew is a small threat. Well, they were until they got hold of the USB key. Your third mission as an Avenger-in-Training (A.I.T.) was to find it and take it back to the Avengers Tower for a little exploration and safekeeping.

 

“Nah, looks like the coast is clear… I think.”

 

Both of you had identical black backpacks, but only one of them had the USB key. You didn’t even know which one had it. The other stuff in the bags were comic books, some sandwiches, and a switchblade. *Sandwich. I could use a sandwich.*

 

“Okay.” You hear Natasha in your ear. “Just stay low for another 5 minutes or so and Clint’ll come and pick you guys up. Good?”

 

Both of you reply at the same time. “Good.”

 

Natasha’s line cuts off. Can’t have her on the line at all times. *If we can trace them, they can trace us.* You and Bucky are alone.

 

And you continue. “Hey, can I eat one of the sandwiches? I’m starvin’ here.”

 

Just as you hear the beginning of Bucky’s reply, someone shoves you from behind.

 

You turn your head back, looking for the perp. “What the--”

 

Immediately after, you feel a fist in your gut and the wind is knocked right out of you. You cough, hazed and trying to regain your breath, when you feel yourself being dragged by one? no, two people. Bucky’s voice penetrates your head.

 

“(y/n)! Can you hear me? What’s going on?”

 

*What is going on?*

 

“I… I don’t know--” Another blow to the stomach and you groan in pain. *Okay, stop talking. I can’t give the earpiece away. It’s probably my only hope of somehow getting him to find me.*

 

“(y/n)? (y/n) talk to me when you can. Okay?”

 

You don’t reply. Even in your haze, you realise you’re being dragged up a flight of stairs. *This can’t be good...*

 

You hear one of them speak. “Phone. Break it. They can trace that.”

 

My phone is ripped out of my hand and I hear it being thrown on the ground with force. *meh, didn’t need it anyway* Then your backpack is taken off your shoulders and you can’t do much to fight it, not being able to breathe properly and all… *crap. I needed that*

 

“Throw her in the chair. He’s coming in 2 minutes.” *He… Who’s ‘he’?*

 

You’re finally back to 100% breathing and consciousness, but are now having your legs tied to the chair legs and your hands tied together behind you. You’re able to free your hands from the ropes *Do you know how to tie a not, dude?* and try to push the guy in front of you away.

 

The other person’s fist connects with your jaw.

 

“Sit. Down.” She says, firm.

 

“Make me.” Another blow to the stomach and another groan of pain, though this one didn’t wind you. Then you realise, that’s a lot of winding punches, but nothing to actually hurt me except that jaw blow. *You can’t hurt me until ‘he’ gets here, can you?*

 

You’re hands are being tied much tighter - like, rope burn tight - this time. “Oh, there we go. That’s a real knot.” The girl pulls the knot particularly hard after that comment.

 

Bucky’s voice returns. “As much as I love the no-shits-given attitude, try to stay alive, okay?”

A chuckle escapes you and you cover it up with a cough. The guy and the girl both look at you, and you stare back.

 

“Problem, assholes?” You ask with obvious distaste in your voice.

 

“Okay, calm down. I said ‘stay alive’ remember? Just hint me to your location. I know the rough area because you were a block ahead of me, but there’s a lot of buildings here.”

 

*Okay, I can do that.*

 

After the two move towards the window, you shift and sit up straight in the chair. The rope stings your wrists, but you play it off. “Hey, I have a question- why the second floor? Wanted a nice view of the sunset outside?”

 

“Awesome. Second floor, facing west. Need a little more, but be careful not to make it too obvious.”

 

As you’re scanning the outside for any landmarks you can mention, footsteps and a deep voice come in behind you.

 

“It is a great view, but we did it more for the restaurant downstairs. Great dim sum.”

 

The two that brought you in snap to attention. *This is definitely him*

 

“What the fuck do you want?” You ask, cold and immediately regretting it, as he punches your jaw – strangely enough, the exact same place the girl did. That’s probably why this one stung like a bitch. He plays it off like nothing happened. He’s only a bit taller than the other two, but he’s definitely older. Definitely the boss type of guy.

 

“As you may or may not know,” the man begins, “Crown Crew has been...taking care of an important piece of technology.” He stands in front of you, with a large, steaming mug (more like jug) of… tea? “Children, would you like some tea?”

 

The two ‘children’ join him in standing in front of you, now with cups of tea each. *They have to be like, at least 25. They aren’t children.*

 

“As I was saying. The piece of technology is in the form of a USB key. One that my kids here say you stole.” *Kids. His children. Makes sense.*

 

“Aw, sucks. Was that one of their homework assignments? See, that’s why I stick with the good ol’ fashion pen and paper.”

 

The son pounces to punch you, but his father holds him back.

 

“No, not quite. Something much more important.”

 

“Porn collection?”

 

You hear Bucky’s laugh in your ear and allow yourself to flash a smug grin.

 

The son’s leg swings up and a kick connects with your right side, right in the ribs. “Shut up and listen…asshole.”

 

Grimacing from the pain that’s becoming all too intense, you decide to follow instructions. Bucky’s directions’ll have to wait. You nod to let him continue.

 

“Thank you.” He says. “So, this USB key is very important for our future…plans. So I figured I’d ask politely. Where. Is. It?”

 

You shrug nonchalantly.

 

The girl lets out a frustrated sigh before punching you in the right side again. Hard. You cry out in pain. *Bruised rib at least. What is with them and my right side?*

 

“Where is it?!” She screams.

 

You couldn’t reply, even if you wanted to. All you can do is take deep, stinging breaths.

 

Their father speaks up. “Perhaps her backpack. Have you checked yet?”

 

“No.” you say through gritted teeth, “They were waiting for daddy.” You throw your head back and look up to the ceiling in an attempt to clear your mind of the screaming pain.

 

“The faster you give me your location the faster I can get you. Help me out.”

 

You focus on the three again, the girl going through the contents of your bag (*I still want that sandwich*) and the father and son, staring you down.

 

You will yourself to speak, despite the agony in your side. “So that dim sum place downstairs. Think I can get some? I’m starving here.” You’re ignored by the three, but you know Bucky got the hint.

 

“Dim sum. Got it! 2 minutes max. Gotta find a safe way in. Hang on, okay?”

 

The daughter throws the bag across the room. “IT’S. NOT. HERE.”

 

“I said I didn’t know what USB you’re talking about. Why’d you think it’d be in—“

 

The son throws his tea – guess where – on your mid-right side. It doesn’t have any effect for the first three seconds or so, until a really strong burning sensation registers in your brain. You try not to react, but can’t help but squeezing your eyes shut in agony.

 

“Geez, how hot is that tea? And what is it with you guys and my right side? Can’t you spread the pain? Nutella doesn’t taste good unless you spread it out, y’know.” You shift in your chair, hoping the rope burn will distract you from everything else.

 

It works for about a second, because the dad’s hand is now on your right side. On the to-be burn. On the bruised (at least) rib (or ribs). Slowly adding pressure, slowly adding to your discomfort.

 

“Because we know the effects of isolated pain. It’s more… effective, if you will.”

 

You let out another cry. *Goddamnit Buck, where are you?*

 

“Now, would you like to share some information?”

 

You can only moan in pain.

 

“What was that?”

 

“I…don’t…know…” you reply softly, ready to pass out.

 

One of the kids – you can’t really tell who at this point – interrupts. “Oh Daaaad. There’s a knife here.”

 

He gives you one more strong push to the side, and it leaves you reeling, even though he removes his hand right after. “A knife, you say? Perhaps it’ll be put to good use.” His son hands him the knife and he begins to…cut the ropes?

 

“You see, (y/n), we know you’re an A.I.T.” *How does he who I am? What I am? Why does he only say it now? What the fuck is going on?* “And if you’re an A.I.T., they teach you how to fight.” He pushes you off the chair and you fall onto your hands and knees. “So fight.”

 

All you can focus on is, well, the pain. You’re light-headed and feel like you’re going to black out (and at this point, you rather do that than fight).

 

Quietly, you cry into the earpiece, “Bucky…” 

 

The next thirty seconds are a complete blur. You hear cries from your three captors, and look up to see who they’re from. Your vision is fading in and out of blackness, but you’re able to make out a shining arm.

 

“James…. Bucky…”

 

*He’s here. Get your ass off the floor and fight.* And with that, you somehow peel yourself off the ground. You’re more focused on not getting hit rather than hitting, but it doesn’t matter. You aren’t fighting to kill. You’re fighting to stall for Bucky. *He’ll take the hard stuff today. I’ll owe him.*

 

You’re one on one with the bitchy daughter, and even with the metaphorical knife in your side, you feel ready to beat the shit out of her.

 

She goes in for a kick, which you block with your hands. It makes you lightheaded, but you send her backwards by throwing her off balance and a wave of satisfaction rolls over you.

 

“(y/n)! Here!” Bucky calls. The dad and son are knocked out. *Looks like it’s time to finally end this*

 

With a rather weak and off-centre front kick, you send her backwards towards Bucky, who immediately knocks her out with his metal arm. *That’s gonna leave a bruise*

 

You slump against the nearest wall, having trouble breathing. Bucky rushes over and helps you sit down. He tells you to hold on a few seconds, while he makes sure the three are tied up and ready for transport. *I guess we’re taking them with us.*

 

As more time passes, the pain becomes sharper and more intense. Your adrenaline rush is ending. Bucky apparently reads your expression and comes over with your backpack.

 

“Comics and sandwiches?” he sits beside you against the wall and gives you a smile.

 

“I’ll take the sandwiches, but the comics’ll have to wait. I can’t exactly see straight right now. USB key safe?”

 

“Look, I love you and all, but do you really think I’d give an A.I.T. a USB key?” His smile is replaced with a worried look as he scans over you. “What’s the damage?”

 

You scan yourself to see if any bones are sticking out of your body. Luckily, none.

 

“Rope burn on my wrists, a bruised jaw, and some bad shit on my right side. Bruised ribs, maybe? Tea burn, too. Didn’t know it was possible.”

 

“Can I, uh, take a look?”

 

You look at him in a weird way, then remember it involves him lifting up your shirt. “Yeah. Yeah, you can…”

 

He uses his metal arm to lift up your shirt. It feels nice when the cool air meets your already bruised skin. When he touches your side, you wince at the slight, sharp pain. He pulls back.

 

“No, it’s fine. It’s not gonna get any better anyway.”

   
He runs his hand down your side and watches your response.

 

“I’m gonna press down a bit. Tell me if you need me to stop.” You look up to the ceiling, press your lips together and nod. “I’m serious, okay? I’ll stop. I promise.”

 

You look back at him and read his eyes, then reassure him. “I know. I trust you, James… Bucky… whatever people call you nowadays.”

 

He lowers his flesh hand. “They call me a lot of things, just not Jimmy.” After letting out a breathy laugh, you wince in pain once again. He snaps back into Dr. Bucky mode. “Okay, here we go.”

 

Press down. Slight pain. Release. He moves his hand down.

 

Press down. More pain. Release. Hand moves down.

 

Press down. Sharp pain. Release. Hands move right.

 

Press down. “Stop.” You press your head against the wall behind you.

 

“Sorry.” It comes out of his mouth right away.

 

“It’s fine, Buck. So. What’s the verdict?”

 

He removes both of his hands and your shirt falls back to where it was beforehand.

 

“It’s definitely burned in some places. And you may have a cracked rib. I’m not a hundred percent sure.” He gets up. “Eat your sandwiches. I’m gonna get in touch with Nat, get an extraction planned. Hopefully for tonight, if not sooner.”

 

While munching on some sandwiches, you read a comic (classic Captain America, of course) and marvel at how different Steve is from the comics. Finally, Bucky returns and you hand him the last sandwich.

 

“Thanks.” He resumes his seat beside you. “Clint’s coming in around 2 hours. You can sleep if you want. I can watch you.”

 

You shrug. “To be honest, I don’t know if I can sleep with,” you gesture to your injured side, “this.”

 

He takes a quick bite of the sandwich before putting it on the backpack. “Can I try something?” You nod, hesitant but trusting.

 

He slowly puts his metal hand on your side. The cooling sensation causes a sigh to escape your lips.

 

“Is… Does that feel okay?” He’s trying to read your expression, but even you don’t know how to feel.

 

“Yeah I’m good. It’s sore, but nice. Ice on a bruise kind of thing.”

 

“Okay hold on.” He removes his hand and unzips his hoodie. You can see his metal arm, all the way up to where his short sleeve shirt cuts it off. He folds it and lays it on his lap, motioning for you to rest your head on it. “There. A pillow.”

 

“Aw, why thank you… James.” You lie down, groaning quietly. He gently rests his metal arm on your side again, and you slowly fall into sleep world. But not before hearing:

 

“Is that a Captain America comic?” 

 

***

 

When you wake up, it takes a few seconds for you to realize that you’re in the Avengers Tower infirmary. Surprisingly you’re able to sit up on the side of the bed. *Painkillers*

 

On the side table is a change of clothes – joggers, running shoes, a white shirt and Bucky’s sweater.

 

You’re somehow able to change *Painkillers really are amazing wow* and Banner comes in just as you’re zipping up the sweater.

 

“Hi.” He gives you a small wave. “Can I just, um, check on you before you run off again?”

 

You sit on the side of the bed again. “Sorry. I shouldn’t just leave like that.”

 

He adjusts his glasses before approaching you. “No, don’t worry. I don’t blame you. Being stuck here sucks. Just wanna check on your ribs. They were pretty bad.”

 

You make it less awkward by lifting your shirt for him. “How long was I out? And how many did I crack?”

 

“You were out for about a day and a half, and you cracked 1 and bruised 2. You’re reacting really well to the meds though. You should be good to go out again in a day or two, if you really want to.” He stands up straight again, finished with his examination. “And the USB key is safe with Stark.”

 

“That’s good. And no, I think I’m gonna stay on the sidelines for a bit.” You let the shirt and hoodie fall, and take the hand Banner offers to help you off the bed. “Thank you.”

 

He gives you a kind smile.

 

Walking outside together, he leaves you with, “Bucky’s in the common room, by the way. Well, at least, last I saw him.” And you go your separate ways.

 

Walking into the common room, you see Bucky on the couch, watching an episode of MythBusters. You take a chocolate milk box out of the fridge before sitting beside him.

 

“I always felt bad for Buster when I was younger.”

 

He turns his head sideways to look at you and does a double take. “Oh hey! You’re awake. How’re you feeling?” 

 

“A lot better than 2 days ago. Sore, but alive. Great A.I.T. experience.” You look down and notice your sleeves. “Oh shit. I still have your sweater.” You begin to unzip it, but he stops you.

 

“Nah, you can keep it. It fits you better than it fits me.” He leans back against the couch again, relaxed.

 

There’s a pause as Adam and Jaime blow Buster up again.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“No problem.”

 

“No, not just for the sweater. For everything. And not just two days ago. Just… everything.”

 

He looks at you quizzically from his lax position, then sits up.

 

“Uh, you’re welcome. But, can I ask you to do something? As a… thank you?”

 

“What’s that?” you ask, opening your chocolate milk and taking a sip.

 

“If you’re gonna call me,” he drops his voice to barely a whisper, “Jimmy,” his voice returns to normal volume, “can you make sure we’re sort of… relaxed? Y’know. Not with the others?”

 

“Haha! Okay, yeah, sure. I’m just glad you finally realised I wasn’t going to stop.”

 

Jimmy nudges you playfully. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

 

Just as you’re drinking more milk, Natasha joins you two in the common room.

 

“Oh hey (y/n/n), glad to see you’re alive. Jimmy, what’s up? What’s this? MythBusters?”

 

You choke on your milk, Bucky stares, and Natasha sends you a wink.

 

Jimmy Bucky Barnes. It’s a catchy (and utterly hilarious) name.


End file.
